Where The Rain Goes
by EternallyDrowning
Summary: Supermodel Sakura Haruno is dating the unbeatable street-fighter Sabaku no Gaara, but when her job puts her in a position that makes Gaara leave in anger, will they ever stay together? Or will Sakura be left out in the rain? SakuraxGaara SakuxGaa ONESHOT!


_He's not coming._

I'm soaked to the bone, the pouring rain drowning me slowly in my guilt, a slow, torturous punishment. Each droplet pounds against me like a stone. I am being stoned to death for my sin. This is justice. An execution. Water rolls down my face in large streams, whether it's all the rain, or if I'm crying, I don't know.

_Of course he's not coming… _I pull my knees tightly to my chest, my arms wrapping around them to keep in my despair. _I wouldn't come either… _

It was all my fault. I hurt him. I betrayed him. I wouldn't want to come back for me. I would never even look back. He's doing the right thing.

But I can still feel my heart sink, overwhelmed with disappointment and so much self loathing that I want to vomit.

I suppress a shiver as the cold from the rain washes over me, each falling drop feeling like a knife embedding itself into my skin. I look up to the sky, the gray clouds stopping all light of hope from making it to me. There is no lightning to illuminate my pain, no thunder to scream in protest, all there is, is the never ending rain. It falls from above as though in mourning for what I have done.

Even heaven is crying.

* * *

"Think it's going to rain today?" I asked depressed. I had never liked the rain. It was cold, and wet, and always made me sick, whether I was dressed appropriately or not. Not to mention my hair would frizz up on me so bad that I'd have to spend forever just to straighten it out again.

"No, it won't be raining until tomorrow." the red head next to me replied emotionlessly, his eyes were busy scanning the full-page add of me in this month's magazine issue.

"Really?" I sighed in relief, leaning back on my chair so that I would fall over if I moved even a little bit more. He didn't reply to me, he just kept looking at the picture. Suddenly, I felt very self conscious about it. What was he thinking? Did he like it? Did he think I looked like an idiot? A tramp? A wave of paranoia washed over me, and I soon found myself casually asking the fated question. "So, what do you think of it?"

His eyes moved to the side in order to observe me, my face was probably completely giving me away emotionally wise, but whether he read my nervousness or not wasn't apparent, for he didn't show anything. No emotion at all. Instead, he tossed the magazine down on the table before us, the add for the new _Marvel Lip-gloss_: _Strawberry Blast_ flavor completely catching my attention.

I was in the center of the page, my smile wide and bright, my eyes laughing, my skin glowing healthily, my lips shining with a crapload of lip-gloss… There was a whole…bubbly feel to the ad.

"Oh God," I groaned in horror, hiding my face in my hands. "I'm never going to live this down!"

"You look cute." Gaara said finally, taking his eyes away from the magazine in order to look at me.

"No I don't!" I mumbled self consciously as I took my hands away from my face to lock eyes with him.

His cold hand reached out and cupped my chin, tilting it upward slightly, forcing me to look him in his jade eyes. We stayed like this for a moment in silence, before Gaara opened his mouth to speak again. "You look cute." he repeated.

His eyes were burning holes into mine, but not in anger, in something else. They were smoldering, overwhelming, yet comforting, and familiar. Before I even knew what I was doing, I found my mouth moving and replying to him. "Yes. I am very adorable."

We were caught in the moment, our sudden closeness surprising us both, yet we weren't willing to pull away. I soon realized I was leaning in, and brushing my lips against his own, then sliding them across the skin of his chin, and down his jaw line, to his neck, and shoulder, following the faint scar that lead the way. He doesn't move as I cover it with soft kisses, every now and then taking a faint moment to brush my tongue against it, or to allow myself a small bite at his sensitive skin.

"You're not going to lose." I spoke against his skin, my voice being muffled by his throat.

"No." he replied sternly, as though the very thought was an impossibility.

I closed my eyes and nodded, resting my forehead against his cheek.

Gaara was a street fighter, and a very strong one at that. Whenever he was challenged to a fight, he pulverized the enemy quickly and without mercy. There was no gang leader that did not know his name, no delinquent that did not fear and respect him, no cop that wouldn't want to catch him in the act and order his arrest, and there was no limit to the amount of money people would pay to see if their fighters could beat him. It was how he made his money, his living. People would challenge him to face street fighters. The first person to knock out the opponent was the winner. The lowest he had ever been paid was $200, and that was only because it was a low class fight. The fight tonight was a higher risk. The betting had risen the prize to over $6,000. It was a fight between two of the top fighters in the city. Gaara had never lost before, and the only serious wound that had scarred him was the one running down his face and neck, but that was only because it was a cheap shot after he had been through nearly three dozen people before that attacker. He was too prideful to admit that he was tired, and so one lucky shot was landed. One lucky shot with a bottle…

Gaara will never lose, and he will never allow anyone to touch him again. But still…

I worried.

"Sorry…did I interrupt something? I could always come back in an hour…or two."

The man beside me tensed, his body going rigid, preparing to attack. His eyes scanned the room, locking on the man standing at the doorway leading to the hall. My eyes followed his, and saw the intruder of our private moment.

"Ah…the pervert returns." I mumbled tiredly as I recognized the familiar face of my silver haired manager, Kakashi.

Gaara immediately released his hold on me, unwrapping his arm from around my waist and gently shoving me off of him so that I was sitting completely on my own again, and not leaning against him like I had been.

"Sakura, I have a new job for you. This time it's for GREEK Perfumes." my manager informed me, his voice slow and void of energy from his tiredness. "You are to be shooting with another model for the billboard tomorrow evening."

"Theme." I huffed, slightly pissed that he came at the wrong moment. Sure, Gaara was an affectionate guy, but only when no one else was looking. Kakashi ruined a perfectly good moment between us, and because I'm usually too busy to spend time with my boyfriend, it was not something I was going to forgive anytime soon.

"Well…" my manager started awkwardly, rubbing the back of his head with his hand. "There…isn't one."

I raised an eyebrow.

GREEK Perfumes was known to be extremely random with what they did with their ads as well as their themes and demands of the models, but not having an ad all together? That was extremely odd.

"How interesting…"

* * *

His arms wrapped around me protectively, yet gently, his face nestled into the crook of my neck, as he took in the scent of my skin. I didn't push him off, instead I reached behind me and rested my hand on his head, running my fingers through his raven black hair, keeping his face next to my skin. He gave a small seductive smirk at this, and slid his hand from around my waist to down toward my thigh. My face instantly heat up, a small blush tainted my flesh a light pink, my eyes closing innocently.

Sasuke Uchiha was a very sexual model.

Everything about him resonated sex. His cold eyes locked onto your own, his pale body pressed against your own, and he would look at you with an angelic face, an angelic face framed in the darkest of black. He was not afraid to touch, he was not afraid to feel, and he was not afraid of embarrassment. The raven haired supermodel was one of the most sought after figures of the modeling world, trained by the famous Orochimaru, and born into a line of well known figures in the entertainment world: The Uchihas. Girls would flock around him, squeal about him, and post pictures of him in their rooms in an almost obsessed fashion. To them, he was a beautiful man, someone they saw to be the perfect boyfriend. He was extremely attractive, stoic, and mysterious. They saw him as the ultimate man. In his pictures, they would see him as such.

It takes a great deal of training and perceptiveness to see that he bases everything he does on sex.

Every position and pose he moved into would flaunt his body, his eyes would always be full of lust, whether you could tell or not, and if he was paired with someone, he had to touch them. It was as though he were compelled to, and there was no escaping his grasp.

I could see why the company chose him.

GREEK Perfumes had launched their newest fragrance, Olympia. They had left the poses, choreography, and theme all up to the director and the models of the ad, but it had been decided that they would base the theme on the name, Olympia.

We were gods.

Well, at least I was.

I was adorned in a small white dress, my legs completely exposed, a low hanging neck exposing a large portion of my cleavage, tie up sandals, and had my hair curled into soft spirals. I was the embodiment of Aphrodite. Sasuke, on the other hand, was the peasant, a human allowed a glimpse into the world of the gods through the power of the perfume. His hair was shaggily placed around his face, his chest was bare and void of clothes, exposing his pale but carved muscles. The only clothes he was actually wearing was a faded pair of pants, made to look like they belonged to a peasant, and a pair of simple sandals.

He was almost overwhelming. My head felt incredibly light as he looked at me, and my stomach seemed to flutter inside itself, and the ground seemed to be rushing up to me extremely fast…

"Enough! I've had enough!" I screamed, completely ruining my pose as I stomp off the set and toward the director, ignoring the irritated look from Sasuke. "You made me come here at three in the afternoon so we could set everything up. I came. We've been choreographing and shooting for the past six hours, but I've had enough! I can't take this! I need something to eat or I am going to pass out!"

"I'm sure we have something around here…" the director tried to reassure me. The last thing he needed was a pissed off supermodel. It may be his genius that made the product, but if the company wasn't happy with his results because the model was too starved and unable to work, his career would be ruined. "Here, why don't you have my salad? It's made from all fresh vegetables with a low calorie dressing." he offered, waving his hand over by his desk where a waiting salad was placed.

"A salad is _not _food! I need something unhealthy and fat fried!" I growled loudly.

I crouched on the floor, my fingers pressed to my temples in a vain effort to weaken my growing headache. My stomach was completely empty, and I had a fear that if I stood up again I was going to faint.

"I can't do this!" I cried, the pain from my hunger so great that I wanted to lay down and never wake up.

"Ah, you made her throw a tantrum." I heard Kakashi say from somewhere to my left. There were footsteps coming closer to me, and an object shoved in front of my face.

A cell phone.

I looked up at my manager uncertain.

"Take it." he ordered, waving the device in front of me again.

I nodded, and grabbed the cellular device. There aren't many people I could call in a situation like this, for I never did have many friends, so I ended up typing in the most familiar number to me out of them all.

The phone rings once…twice…three times…

"Hn."

"Gaara?" I asked nervously, as my hand clutched the metal of the phone tightly. "It's me. Do you think you could pick up something drenched in grease and unhealthy enough to give me a future heart attack… Please?"

"Are you alright?" he asked suddenly, a small edge of concern evident in his voice.

I shake my head, completely forgetting that he couldn't see the movement.

"No, I'm fine. I just need something to eat. I haven't eaten since eleven, so I'm a little light headed…"

"I understand."

There were no other words, no goodbyes. There was only a _click_ and the dial tone beeping into my ear.

"Bye" I said to no one.

* * *

"You're a life saver, you know that?" I sang happily, placing another French fry into my mouth and chewing away at it hungrily, already greedily grabbing for the next one in the box.

"You have no restraint." Gaara said slightly amused. He rolled his eyes toward the direction of the pile of wrappers form my food: Two double cheeseburgers, a medium coke, and a large order of fries. I pick up the second to last French fry in the box.

"I know!" I replied happily, lifting the French fry and pressing it to his lips. He parted them submissively, and I slid the food inside. He bit down, ever so slowly, and chewed steadily. I stared at him as he chewed, the movement of his jaw entrancing to me, and the way his throat moved as he swallowed was incredibly sexy.

"Who's the guy?" Gaara asked emotionlessly, yet I could tell that there was an edge of defensiveness to his voice. I follow his glare to Sasuke Uchiha, who was staring at me bewildered as I ate what he must have considered a one way ticket to a bad figure and an end to a career.

I resisted the urge to grimace.

"Sasuke Uchiha. He's another supermodel, like me. He's really famous for his work for _Trey Cologne_, as well as _Fiora Jeans_, but if you ask me, he's way to sensitive." I whispered to my boyfriend, pressing my lips against his ear to keep anyone from hearing what I was saying. "He cares way too much about how the world views him, and has a inferiority complex to his older brother. There was a magazine article last month that contained a poll of popular entertainment figures. Apparently Sasuke and I were the number one Would-Like-To-Be-Seen-Paired-Up couple of the season. I don't know _what_ they were thinking on that one, he's way too touchy-feely for me. Not to mention his narcissist personality…"

"Hn." My red head sounded, his voice unreadable, his expression giving nothing away.

"Sakura." I heard the photographer say impatiently.

"Crap…" I inwardly hissed, "I gotta get back to the shoot. Thank you so much for feeding me. You saved my life. I'll make it up to you, I promise." I take the moment to give him a quick, yet very affectionate, kiss on the cheek, as though to seal the honor of my word. "You can stay and watch me if you want." I added finally, a small tinge of self-consciousness filling me at the thought of him watching me in a photoshoot. I swallow down my emotions, and make my way back over to the set.

* * *

"I don't know…I'm just not getting the right vibe from this. I can't quite place my finger on it, but we're missing something from this." the photographer mumbled to us irritated. He wasn't used to working with a spur of the moment make-it-your-own-way theme. He looked up at Sasuke and me. "Do something completely outrageous for me." he demanded suddenly.

"Yeah, yeah." I huffed childishly, brushing off his demands with a wave of my hand.

The photographer took his position again and started to capture us on his film. I was getting somewhat bored with this already, but I wasn't about to let it show in my face. I know exactly how he must be feeling. Something was definitely missing from our setup here. Something…

My thoughts were interrupted when I felt the tight grip of Sasuke's hand grab my shoulder. Before I even knew what was happening, he had swirled me around, my short white dress exposing a dangerous amount of leg to everyone as it turned, and I was launched into Sasuke's arms. I was fine with the pose, my face was somewhat shocked at the sudden movement, but it sure beat the boring routine of my back to his chest. I glanced up into his eyes, there was a strange look in them. Something I couldn't quite place. I thought I saw a glimmer of longing in them, with a shine of desperation, and then, only for a moment, I thought I saw anger.

I smiled at him.

_The long photo-shoot must be getting to him, _I had thought. I was about to say something to him, to tell him that he wasn't the only one that was getting stressed, and that he had nothing to be ashamed about, but my words weren't able to come out of my lips, because he had leaned down and crashed his own against mine.

There was an almost painful sting as his hand gripped the back of my head, clawing at my hair lustfully, forcing me to stay against his lips. I just stood there, stunned, not quite believing what was happening. There was always a form of distance between models, there was never something so intimate as this, at least, not in anything that I had ever done.

Sasuke placed his other hand roughly against the side of my face, clenching my jaw line harshly as he worked his mouth against mine.

It hurt.

_No, _I thought, _Not you. You don't get to kiss me._

I tried to pull away and voice my protest, but all that happened was Sasuke holding me tighter against him, and the small opening my lips created when I tried to speak was completely pried apart and filled as he shoved his tongue into my mouth.

_No! Stop!_ my mind screamed desperately, and I tried to get my hands between us in order to shove him away form me. He ignored me, his tongue too busy rubbing against my own, trying to coax me into playing along with him, to notice my rejection. He soon gave up when he realized I wasn't complying, and went to explore the different parts of the cavern of my mouth. I tried to shove him away again, more desperately this time. Once again, my weak pushes proved to be futile, in fact, it seemed to encourage him, and soon a low moan made its way out of his mouth.

_Don't touch me,_ my mind screamed in an absolute panic, _Don't touch me!_

A hollow sound echoed in the silence.

I wasn't sure what had happened, but suddenly Sasuke was off of me, and my heart was beating so fast that I thought it would rip out of my chest, my breathing was so heavy that I thought I would suffocate. I was completely victimized, yet he had stopped.

I looked at the male model fearfully.

His eyes were wide open, a complete look of surprise filling them, his face turned to the side so that I cold only see half of it, and there was an extremely bright red color making the pale skin on his cheek seem like it was on fire.

My eyes glanced over at my hand, hovering in the air by itself, ready to attack again, the skin still numb from the contact, the muscles of my arm completely ready to defend me again.

I had slapped him.

I had slapped Sasuke Uchiha.

"Gaara?" my voice managed to croak out, my voice sounding incredibly weak, almost inaudible. The whole of my body was trembling uncontrollably, my arms encasing me protectively, no longer trusting anyone other than myself to do so. "Gaara?" I repeated, much more urgently this time.

I looked over to the back of the room, to the table where we had been conversing only moments before.

Nothing. He wasn't there.

_Where was he? Where did he go? I need him! Where did he go!?_ I demanded in my mind.

I frantically searched around the room, oblivious to the shocked faces of the staff, the concerned face of my manager. Their faces didn't matter. All that mattered was the one face I was looking for, the one face I couldn't find. And then I saw it, the back door off to the left, the door with the glowing EXIT sign hanging above it, was wide open.

_No! I didn't mean for that to happen, Gaara! I didn't mean for him to- _I no longer took the energy to think, instead I ran. My legs started moving at a speed unknown to me, adrenaline running through my veins, keeping me completely aware of where I needed to go. I burst through the open doors and out into the busy streets of the outside world, out into the pouring rain.

_Where is he? _I cried inside my mind once I made it outside, barely audible over the sound of the rain. _Why can't I find him?_ My thin dress was already soaked through, my hair was saturated beyond what a towel could manage, and my skin was completely numb with cold, yet I wouldn't slow down. I continued walking along the crowded sidewalk, crossing the main street systematically to make sure I didn't miss any of the corners or back-ways that he could be hiding in.

_Hiding? _The very word made me want to burst out crying. _What if he's hiding from me? What if he never wants to see me again?_

I no longer had the will to move. I no longer had the will to search.

I collapsed onto the paved street of a back-alleyway, too overwhelmed with cold and sadness to care that people were staring at me. What did it matter who stared at me anyway? None of those eyes staring belonged to him.

* * *

The rain falls around me, a steady, pounding drum. It's rhythmic, and beautiful, like a lullaby of tears. Through the rain is a merger of different colors, different blobs of hues and shades appearing from beyond the thin veil of water. The streets are still busy, the taxies and cars roaring past me like I don't even exist.

It doesn't matter, I shouldn't exist anyway.

I have no idea how long I have been sitting here. All sense of time seems to be lost.

I am no longer shivering, my teeth are no longer chattering, and the cold no longer seems to affect me. Instead, I stare blankly into the masses of people. If there is a flame of hope at all in my heart, it is too small to create warmth, or light, or motivation.

All I want to do is disappear.

"Idiots who sit out in the rain get sick."

I lift my head slowly, the very movement seeming to drain all my remaining strength, in order to face the presence that has appeared in front of me. He's incredibly tall compared to my place on the ground, and I start to feel pain as I need to move my stiff neck more in order to completely see him. His legs are covered by black sweatpants, his chest covered by a large black sweatshirt, both of which are completely run through with the rain. His hair sticks to his head and neck as though their existence depended on it, the red strands dripping with the rain water, running down his face, his chin, his jaw, some of which follows the faint line of a scar…

"Gaa…ra?" My mouth forms, my words a mere breath in loudness.

He looks at me, his frozen eyes staring at me in a daze, almost as lifeless as my own.

"The shoot was supposed to end at 10:00, so I came to pick you up…" he says quietly, an uncertainty to his voice, a doubt.

"You…came to pick…me up?" I ask quietly, not quite believing what he had just said.

"Hn." he answers, his head nodding slightly as he said this.

_He didn't abandon me! He came for me! _A large bubble is pressing against my chest form the inside, making me want to explode in overwhelming emotion. My face is still wet, and new drops of liquid are running down my cheeks, but my lips taste a saltiness to them.

I'm crying, crying in happiness.

"Gaara!" I cry out, bolting up from the ground and running toward him. I catapult myself into the air, using my legs as a spring, flying toward his awaiting arms. He catches me effortlessly, his arms gripping around my waist, pulling me closer to him, keeping my feet off of the ground as he spins slightly from the momentum of the catch.

I am so happy I can't even think. I just want to stay in his strong arms like this, to be embraced by him forever.

I brush my lips against his urgently, afraid that if I don't touch him as much as I can that he would slip through my fingers and wash away with the rain, so my hands hold his face gently, to make sure he doesn't evaporate. After a moment he adjusts me, swinging my legs around his hips. I grip them around him so he can freely move his hands. He runs them slowly along my spine, making his way toward my neck, where he rests one gently, the other placed in the center of my back, supporting me against him.

_Don't ever leave me. Don't you ever leave me!_ I keep repeating over and over in my mind as I kiss him with more vigor. He must be thinking the same thing, for his lips are grinding against mine with just as much demanding. His arms grip me tighter, my legs gripping him tighter in return, in order for us to get closer. I comb my fingers through his blood red hair, tangling them in the thick strands, making sure he won't try to pull away with out my permission.

We finally break apart for air, allowing our heavy breathing to fill the void of silence between us, ignoring the drops of water that make their way into our mouths and down our faces from the rain.

"I'm sorry." I say finally, the guilt from what happened with Sasuke pressing painfully on my chest now that I found my redhead again. More salty liquid is tasted by my lips, and I realize that I've started crying again.

Gaara ignores my apology, and instead occupies himself by pressing his mouth to the warm skin of my neck, sucking away at the flesh and giving affectionate nips against the skin with his teeth. I feel his tongue run against the curve of my neck, and I close my eyes to better wallow in the feeling of it.

"I'm really sorry." I have to say again, the overwhelming affection coming out of him now only making me feel more guilty.

"Don't talk." he speaks against the hollow of my throat, the very act of it sending vibrations down my body from the bass of his voice. He breaks away from my throat after leaving a dark hickey from his vigorous sucking, and stares me in the eye: Jade to Emerald. "No other man can touch you," he ordered, an overprotective edge to his monotone, "It took everything I had to hold myself back from pulverizing that Sasuke person to a bloody pulp. I won't be able to hold myself back next time." His eyes lose their hardness, and become soft, and overwhelmingly warm. "The only one allowed to kiss you," he starts, leaning forward. His lips brush against mine gently, hovering there for a moment, before breaking away to look at me again, "Is me."

I stand there in a daze, happy that he's still holding me, for I feel like I'm going to melt. The only movement I can make is a quick stiffening of my neck in order to give a faint single nod.

Gaara smirks.

"Good. Let's go home."

* * *

"Gaara? What's going on? Why are you doing this?" I demand.

He says nothing, choosing to remain silent instead of answering me.

I have absolutely no idea where I am going, I have no idea where I am, and I have no idea if there is a wall in front of me just waiting for me to smack into it. I have been taken from my apartment, blindfolded, and forced to trudge through the city streets to Only-Gaara-Knows-Where. He woke me up around 4 AM, made me change and get ready as fast as I could, all for the sake of making it to our destination before sunrise.

Why? I don't know.

"Shut up and walk." he orders sternly, not allowing any sort of refusal to pass after his words. I do as he says and walk. My feet scrape against the ground, the puddles of water and leftover rain drops from the night before bypassing my flip-flops and making my feet wet. I try to side-step in order to avoid a rather deep puddle, but my movements are stopped by Gaara. He will not allow me to move unless he guides me, as though it were the most important thing in the world. His hands are placed on my shoulder, steering me left, right, sideways, and in circles, all for the sake of confusing me and, hopefully, keeping me from walking into things.

"Are we almost there?" I beg, my eyes completely unable to see, no matter how many methods I've used to make something visible. He doesn't answer me verbally, but I feel a faint pressure as the string behind my head is untied, and the blindfold falls to the ground, completely forgotten.

Looking around, I identify where we are immediately: Overpass Bridge. We're standing on top of it, the rest of the world two or three stories below us, the sun breaking through the darkness against the horizon as it begins to rise, making the world seem to be a golden orange hue. The landscape in the distance is that of the city, tall skyscrapers and cement roads completely covering the land as far as the eye can see, yet there's a small river running below us, clean and peaceful enough to make you believe that man can't be anywhere near it.

I look at my boyfriend, confused.

"Why are we here?"

He jerks his head toward the left, the complete opposite from where I was looking, staring at a large billboard, adorning its post next to the bridge, that's big enough to see for anyone crossing the mile long overpass.

My heat catches in my throat.

"That's-!" I can't even finish.

The picture posted on the billboard is the newest advertisement for GREEK Perfumes, a handsome young man in average clothing and a young woman in a small white Roman styled dress. She's encased in his strong arms, her small body being lifted into the air as she descends into his waiting grasp, her pink hair trailing behind her in a stunning way that makes her look as though she were floating. Her eyes are lit with joy, the very essence of her glowing. The two are kissing, the woman kissing him as though the man were the love of her life, the man standing there, wide eyed and holding her, allowing her to kiss him. Her legs bend gracefully, like a ballet dancer, behind her. Ivory arms were wrapped around the man's neck, her hands running through his red hair. It was a beautiful scene, caught in the middle of a rainstorm, the two of them are completely soaked to the bone, but hardly aware of the fact because they are so involved in each other. The background is dark, except for in the top corner. A large streak of lightning cracks along the black with a wonderful light, making everything seem to light up and stand out, and at the very bottom of the billboard is the catch line of the product, adorned in elegant italicized lettering.

_Olympia: The Kiss of a Goddess_

"Oh my God! They got a picture of us!? It's amazing!" I squeal, nearly jumping up and down in my excitement. I'm incredibly happy that they didn't post the picture of me and Sasuke kissing. If they did, I don't think I would be able to look at Gaara without a guilty conscience.

I shake my head, forcing the depressing thought out of my mind.

Turning to my redhead, I smile. "Thank you for showing me this, Gaara. It's wonderful! I can't believe how photogenic you are!" I tease playfully.

He walks right behind me, wrapping his arms around my waist and pulling my back to his chest, resting his chin on my shoulder. I tilt my head so it's resting against his own, his red hair tangling with my pink, making an intertwining mess of color. He's warm against my back, his skin feeling like a heat wave on a winter day.

"What's wrong?" I ask when I realize that he's not responding with as much enthusiasm as he should be. My eyes give him a concerned look, to which he returns with with a disappointed face.

"I don't like it." he grumbles in his low voice, "It's lying."

"What?" I ask sharply, not quite understanding what he's saying. Did he not want to be photographed for the world to see? Did it make him feel exposed or embarrassed by showing affection for thousands of eyes to see? Was he upset by it? "How so?"

"I've already been kissed by a goddess, and without using the perfume." he smirks, pressing his lips against my neck again. This time he doesn't kiss me, instead he runs is tongue along my throat to the base of my jaw line. I suppress a shiver of longing, and tilt my head to give him better access to all of my flesh. He accepts the movement, and rewards me by sucking on the skin by my jaw, leaving his third love-mark since yesterday. Satisfied with the work he's done on my throat, he cups my chin with his hand, and leads my head to the right, where his lips are waiting to capture my own.

The terrible events of the night before seem to be forgotten, for they no longer seem to matter. Gaara and I had prevailed over Sasuke, and there is no reason left to think about the raven haired man at all. Gaara and I are meant to be together, and we always will be. The billboard proves it. So I stay here, with Gaara, allowing our affections to freely display themselves under the growing light of the morning. All the pain of the night before, mixed with tears, and sorrow, have been vanquished by the warmth of the dawning sunrise. Even the leftover water around us is evaporating with the memories of the rest, banished and forgotten by the sun, to wherever the rain goes.

* * *

**Yeah, sorry it got so long. Just to clear things up in case it bugs you, I put the first and last part in present tense on purpose, and made the middle stuff in past tense on purpose as well. Basically the whole center part is a flashback. (in case you didn't realize it as you read)**

**Hoped you liked it!**


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